President Monson's First Conference Address

How cool is this?

Instagram with Lives for Hugs: Egyptian Cat Edition

For over half a year, my sista, Annasophia, and I been sending each other a picture of the day. Basically it is like Instagram, revamped. We send each other things we are doing, or random things we saw, or we just hold up our phones and take of shot of whatever and press send. The ultimate compliment is when someone says "artsy" back. That means you took a pretty great shot.

But the other day, my sister sent me this picture:

Okay, what is going on here? I just keep looking at it too. I mean, that is what I do when I am bored, or stressed, or silly, I put a piece of bread over my head and talk like a robot. And it is interesting too because a few days before she sent me a picture of a cat looking in a puddle at its reflection which was a lion. So, is that cat doing that cat-thing, and trying to look like a lion? Because if he is, he has nothing on my cat, Tigress.

And so I just wanted to share this picture with all of you. When you are bored/stressed/don'tknowwhattodo, just remember, You are bread. Whatevs that means.

P.S. Sometimes I call my sister by her Indian name: She lives for hugs.

Oh and just for your enjoyment. We both get up pretty dang early. So one morning, I sent her a picture of me looking tired, and she responded with her tired picture. Featured below for your viewing pleasure.

Check it out baby

Okay listen. My mom has seriously a way cool blog. I-don't-even-know-when ago she started an FHE (family home evening) blog. In the mormon church we customarily have FHE on Monday nights. During this time we learn more about the Gospel of Jesus Christ and have fun together as a family. My mom one day was thinking about how her three oldest children (including me!) have moved out of the house to go live their lives (strangely enough that line sounds like it could come from the story of the three little pigs). But, she still wanted to teach them at FHE, so she started a blog. So yes, I benefit from this blog, but so do thousands of other people who are looking for FHE ideas or just need an uplift. It is pretty well organized, and it is pretty much smack-down bomb. So you should check it out, and you should share it with your friends, and you should follow it too cause I am continually double-you-o-double-youed by her blog (aka wowed : ).

Go FHE! Go LDS church! and Go Mom!

http://fhelessons.wordpress.com/

Herez a pic of my mom and family. Chillin at 2071. My family is the best family!

How I am not alone

Journey as defined by dictionary.com: traveling from one place to another, usually taking a rather long time. In my journey, I am now right here. In this very moment of time, I am sitting on the third floor, by myself, with my lessons and unit planning sprawled around me. I am thinking these thoughts. The ones swimming around in my brain. Some elegantly coast through the water, some race freestyle or butterfly. Some are diving in and out of the pool. And the mountains are sitting there like a friend. The flowers from last night's party quietly exchanging breath with me. But the best part is that there are people around me. Not here in this room with me, but there are people surrounding my life right now. All different distances away, our thoughts are intersecting as I think of them and they think of me. At this point in my journey, I have these people. These people here. And while I sit along in my apartment, I feel surrounded by those I love. Twenty or so miles behind me, a mile or so to my left, hundreds of miles southeast and southwest, and scattered in every other direction are the people who are in the sphere of my life right now. How lucky I am; I must cherish the moment.

France: Week Two

Okay, week two coming right up. This week was full of castles, rain, and missing lots of people aux Etats-Unis. Monday we took a small bite out of the Louvre. Right now they are doing something interesting with modern art, and every once in a while some old clothes would be thrown into the mix. The most interesting was a pile of clothes under a statue of a woman bending over. It looked like she was resting a huge mound of laundry. I am un peu mad that I didn't take a picture.

Other highlights include trying muscles (the food). They were actually way good. Here's a picture of my meal and the crepe I had afterward. And eating this seriously good pastry at a morning market under a bridge. We saw Napoleon's tomb which was pretty cool. It has it's own room and is surrounded my angles. Also, even though Napoleon purposefully broke the state of France away from the Catholic church, the place where he was buried used to be a church. And of course, there are still relics of such. So many buildings in France are just history build upon history.

We went to Sacre Coeur which is a catholic basilica, which I learned via internet is kind of like a cathedral with a badge of honor. That was way cool. We got to walk up all these steps before reaching the actually building, and then once we got inside, there was no talking and a lot of people were actually praying. It was a lot less touristy than the Notre Dame and other cathedrals I have been to.


Thursday, we caught a train to Loire Valley which was the center of France during the Middle Ages and Renaissance. After the renaissance started in Italy, Loire Valley was the first place it started in France. We visited lots of castles, but my favs where the gardens at Le Chateau a Villandry and Le Chateau de Chambord. The former probably had about seven different gardens and a wood for the King to hunt in. They were amazing as you can see. Before Louis the 14th and Versailles, the King had to contend a bit with all the nobles for his power, so he would travel around France staying in different castles. At Chambord, you can explore tones of rooms and floors and stair cases. I feel like CJ would have loved this place. Le Chateau de Chenoneau was also pretty cool because the entire thing is a bridge and the tour included the kitchens. Also, the main big room that was usually used as a ballroom was converted into a hospital for soldiers during WWII which is so crazy amazing.

I cut my hand on a blade of grass when I was trying to sit down to look
at some swans. #hardlyfe

This bed is actually one of the beds we slept on.

Oh I almost forgot. We slept overnight in a for real actual castle. It has been converted into a museum by day and a hotel by night. It was pretty sweet, and the couple who own it were very nice. Can you imagine? Hey honey, let's buy a castle. We can live in it and make it a hotel to make some money. Some people are just living the dream. (Like me, only I am living my own dream.)

Back in Paris we went to a Brocant on Saturday. A Brocant is basically an antique flea market, and it was way awesome. There were so many, like so many old things. My parents would have absolutely loved it. So in memory of them, I bartered in French and got some really great gifts for people, especially for my mom. She is going to be loving her life come Christmas time. The Brocant was definitely one of my favorite things yet, but it also made me really miss my family. There are so many things here that I just wish they could experience with me. Things I know they would love.

That night was the night of the museums where all the museums in all of Europe are free. Since we go to museums all the time for class, we decided to go the the science museum, which is supposed to be the biggest science museum in all Europe. It was cool, but it would have been out of the planet cool if I was in elementary school. I could have written some of these panels. There were a few exhibits for for adults, but I am just going to say, I think the science museum in San Diego might have this one beat.

Now today, is Sunday. We went to church, were I understood a bit more than last week, especially the lesson on the plan of salvation. And we stopped by another cathedral and made some really good tuna sandwiches, which also reminded me of home and made me miss the people there, especially this one kid I know. Tonight we will have dinner with our host mom, and get ready for another week of Frenchy France. Goals for this coming up week: Speak more French, get better at speaking French, talk to more French people, and buy a pastry from the patisserie by our apartment.

Napoleon's Tomb

The wood's of the King aka my wood because we have that genealogy
trail right?

My poor shoes are taking a beating, they are
tearing themselves into pieces. Going to last
four more weeks?

Some real stagecoaches that were never used. They were part of an
inheritance. 

Just a friendly reminder that I love oreos

My sister showed this to me. Never seen the movie, but love the scene.

Map Animals

I am home for Easter weekend in beautiful warm Vegas City. In our study at my parents house, we have a world map wallpaper plastered up on one side of the room. Don't think that means I know geography very well, but I do know where all the hidden animals are. My brothers and I would sit around looking for all the different types of animals we could see. And now that I am sitting here alone typing away, I really miss those two boys. These animals remind me of them.

Norway, Sweden, Finland, and all those other Northern European countries is a beaver jumping off a rock into Europe.

Italy is a slug.

North and Central America is a jumping kangaroo - Northeast Canada is the head.

There is a upside down dog doing a flip over the Hudson Bay.

Africa is a horses head (it is facing south).

The Obsqaya Guba Bay is a running man without a head.

Iceland is a little guppy fish.

Maybe there are more, but these are just the typical agreed upon map animals in my house. Ask my brother about the diving beaver and he would know what I am talking about. This post goes out to them.

More Poetry for Annasophia

Today in English 7, those kidlets were supposed to write poems using literary devices - simile, metaphor, symbolism, personification, alliteration, hyperbole, onomatopoeia - are the ones they learned. So I decided while they were writing, I would model for them and write under the doc cam. Herez it is:

My sister's smile caught me for a moment;
Just at the park on any other nippy November afternoon,
We'd been tossing our wishes and secrets in the air
like bumbling a beach ball around at the park.
That smile could have lit the whole neighborhood,
the whole city, the whole entire Clark County.
That smile was talking to me:
Saying something as beautiful as the sunset that painters try to paint
or as gentle as the movement when light touches a wet pond.
Her smile said: I am Sophie,
your sister and best friend
for as long as the mountains snow
and the sea waves crash
on the beach we always go to in April.

What 100 dollars can do

The first time I ever cried for happiness was when I gave my aunt a hundred dollars to help her pay for a law suit. I was eight years old, and we were parked in one of those overflow dirt parking lots out in the desert, when I slid on out of my grandmother’s big ‘ol SUV to head into the store. Without thinking, I picked up some money tumbling along in the wind, but when I looked at it, my mind didn’t believe my eyes. It was One Hundred buckaroos.

Now some people think it is stealing to take money off the ground; I didn’t think so, but we turned it in anyway being the good people that we like to think we are. The lady at the desk refused to take it. “You found this blowing out in the desert?” She raised those thin eyebrows. “Honey, no one’s gonna come lookin’ for this.”

My parents said they would keep it safe for me, ya know, until I knew what I wanted to do with it. Somehow, I knew it was special, and I wasn’t about to just give it away to the toy store. A few months later, we had this dinner for my aunt because she was dealing with this law suit and all. Being eight, I didn’t know much of what was going on, except that she wanted custody of my cousin or something like that. I’ll admit that when my mom suggested I give the Benjamin to my aunt to help her out, I wasn’t exactly what you might call thrilled. But I knew it was a nice, maybe even the right thing to do.

I had seen people cry because they were happy before, and I knew that was why she was crying when she opened the card. It was anonymous, but she knew. Her Thank-You folded in between our hug, and suddenly I was crying too. The tears felt different though; they were warm, and my insides were exploding with light.

I knew right then and there, no doll or toy or bike could have made me that happy. It wasn’t even happy, it was pure, untainted joy.

Nailzz

Way back on December twenty-fifth, I received these sticker nails as a gift. You're all jay-jay-jealous I'm sure; my sister was too. So then around thirty minutes past midnight last night, my angle roommate, Say, let me lie in my bed while she stuck these to each of my fingers and filed away the extra sticker with a pretty flimsy nail file. She loves me. We both got tired and she only finished one hand. Then she fell asleep in my room-roommate's bed because Faithy is out of town. So this morning, I skittled up to church one hand flowered, the other not. nbd - I slide. Why am I even blogging about his? Because I have roses on my nails, that's why; and just like my fat fingers in this awk pic, I am rockin' the sticker nails. And yes, I am twenty-two. Still young enough to get away with it.

Secondly, here is a shy-shout-out to my ward. If you are a YSA student around these parts, you are going to want to move into my ward. Beluga the best ward evs.

Thoughts From Dolls

The fact that it snowed yesterday has nothing to do with this blog post. And neither do the Nilla Wafers I ate last night that remind me of my grandma and being a kid at her house. But last night as I was eating these nilla things, I watched some Pixar short films while snuggling up in bed (with Salami). Most were cute, but this one was creeeppy.

Growing up I had two shelves atop half of my bedroom, lining the wall. I loved, like really loved, dolls, so I filled the shelves with all different sorts of them. I loved dolls from other ethnicity and dolls with lots of accessories. Just to prove my point, I am going to admit that I had an American Girl doll house that my dad made out of wood. Often, when I would have my little friends over for sleep overs, especially my couz Paige, they would say how creepy it was that I had these dolls staring down on me all night. That one with the cloak? No matter where I go, she is still looking at me - they would say. Okay, they were not creepy; what is so scary about a sweet little doll? Except when one randomly fell off the shelf - now that did make me jump - but I liked to pose some of them standing up which sometimes made them a bit wobbly.

 I think maybe I wasn't sketched out by them because they were my own dolls. I knew each of them: their personalities, likes and dislikes, temperaments; because I had created them; they existed truly in my head. What an interesting idea. For two reasons:

1. Whenever we create something it does exist first in our head. This Pixar short first had to be created in someone's head. And why did they create it? What does it mean to them? When I watch it, I also use my eyes and noggin to create meaning. What does it mean to me? What does it mean to you? Blowz my mind. (EMD*)

2. On a more spiritual side of things. God knows us each perfectly, and he created us. Maybe that is why he can see us not as we are now, but as we can become. He sees our divine potential and worth. Perry cool stuff. To find out more about the LDS (or Mormon) church, go here.

*EMD refers to English Major's Disease and often happens when English teachers think everyone is going to love literature as much as they do, among other symptoms. Coined by Dr. Chris Crowe.

on shaving

It's the weirdest. I heard the French don't do it. Is that true? 'cause hippy-horrah, I am going to France. The strangest part of it occurs not more than 700 meters from my front door - the BYU testing center. That is, if you are a boy. I have heard about people being turned away because of that afternoon stubble even though they shaved that morning. so ridic. k but here comes the outlandish part: the BYU testing center sells razors. s-e-l-l-s-r-a-z-o-r-s. For just one dollar you can jiffy on over to the restroom and tidy up your face. Strange, but whatevs. Ya know, I think I am going to get me one of those testing center razors, for keepsakes or maybe as a white elephant gift, or maybe I just want one okay? I don't know why since I hate shaving, but, I mean, I still gotta do it, so why not season it up with my very own testing center razzzor. #yesigotobyu #yesitisthestrangest #yesiloveit #bestcollegeever #gocougars #arehashtagesevergoingtogetold

On a absolutely and completely random note. Here are two of my favorite people who don't have to shave. I love them.

Sore Throats

I can stomp on sore throats like a boss, and it all started when I was sick in January and got a sudden desire to heat up water and add lemon and honey. I used to have hot lemon water with a little bit of sugar, but honey, I once heard, is actually a food medicine. I mean, I promise, I did think up this honey-lemon tea thing myself, but turns out a lot of other people did too, just google honey and lemon tea. But do a lot of other people have giraffe mugs like this? Not a chance.

Let me tell you why my favorite animal is a giraffe.

1. They are very gentle creatures. I fed them once, so I would know.
2. They are beautiful. How many animals have patterned coats? Well, a few, but not as cool as the giraffe.
3. They are graceful; it is beautiful to watch them run.
4. They have purple tongues. Okay so maybe that isn't that weird, but it was when I was ten.
5. Rumor has it that people can ride giraffes. Fine, I have never seen or heard of such a thing first hand, but there is evidence on the internet aka the source of all knowledge.


But if you aren't cool enough to have a dad that stuffed your Christmas stocking with a giraffe mug, then any ol' mug will do when you are brewing honey and lemon tea.

And yes, that is a little mini giraffe bathing in my tea.

Acetone or Non-acetone?

I have always been a firm believer of acetone nail polish remover. Especially because it works probably 76 times better than non-acetone and is exactly, to the T with the i's dotted, the same price. Why would anyone walking on the world ever buy non-acetone?

1. Because they have little kids and they don't want the acetone to ruin their carpet. My mom pointed this out to me. Okay, fine - but what is more important, carpet or humans? haha, just kidding Mom. A little bit of luxury isn't worth ruining your carpet.

2. Because it ruins your nails!? What? Yes, Exactly four weeks from this coming Monday someone told me that this lethal substance, acetone nail polish, ruins your nails. And it is true because the internet said the same thing. I'm not shy; I am a frequent nail polish removerer. My nails seem fine, but, well, what if??

So today, or probably tomorrow - definitely not until Saturday, I am buying myself a pretty bottle of non-acetone.

Speaking of nail polish, once my perfect lil' sis got mad at me and decided to punish me by pouring nail polish remover on my bed, in a little polish-remover lake right below my pillow (piilllooowww). Okay, so she was five, but my parents took away all her nail polish for multiple-who-knows-how-many years. Now she paints my toe nails whenever I go home to continue paying off her dept, or maybe she does it just because she loves me...

Memoir

Once when I was a little chickling, I was sitting in a patch of clovers (not) watching my brother play soccer. I had recently seen seen an episode of Reading Rainbow : ) where they had searched through a 5' by 5' square of clovers to find a lucky four leaf gem. So I decided to try my luck. I searched through each regular three-leaf flower, carefully separating them out, looking at each one individually. And guess what, I am not kidding, I found one. So you know what I did with it? I put it in my pocket to show my mom when I got home. A four-leaf clover in my pocket. When I got home to show my mommy, my four-leaf clover, dead and crumpled, was not much of a treasure. So...I threw it away. yes. I am crazy. I once found a four-leaf clover and I threw it away. cray-cray-ka-cray. You are just going to have to believe me.

Here is a completely random picture of me with an owl. #readharrypotter4lyfe

My Brotherz on a mish in B-town

Check out this handsome man:

My brother left on a mission, so I wrote some poetry

The Curbside as I remember it

He was dressed in his black suit;
His silly smile jumping around his face -
Nervous? He said he wasn't,
Just talking about our cat and trying to lick my hand whenever it was near him -
My brother. Sitting in the backseat of the car as we pulled up to the MTC.
"Remember that lick for the next two years."
Shuttled up to the curbside, he got out
Pulled his bags from the back of the car
Hugged Mom; hugged Dad -
Then it was my turn:
He stood up on the curb -
Like a banner -
All six feet and six inches of him.
I was a step down, on the road
As I reached to wrap my arms around him,
He was so tall up on that curb that I pulled him down to the street with me.
We laughed, and I let go.
He turned around and walked,
Walking away from us, but toward -
A step toward Boston, MA
Where he would shape his heart a bit,
And write messy letters to tell me about it.

In the LDS church, young boys and girls leave on missions for two years. My brother is eighteen and he will be serving in Boston preaching the Gospel and helping people find the love, happiness, and peace only Christ can offer.

So then I wrote more poetry, just sloppy, right out of my mind, unedited poetry. This next one is about a friend.

crossing the waves
(chop, chop waves)
In my mind you are setting the table
for dinner and company
in your basement apartment
in September,
but really, where are you?
Get all this water out -
(chop, chop waves)
There's an ocean between us

And then just for sweet Sophie, a silly little verse because I miss her.

Sister's Sonnet replays in my thoughts.
What are you doing three hundred miles away?
She Lives for Hugs,
Lives on.

And then a little modified Haiku because I realized recently, I actually love this form.

I miss you because
I know you are really gone
But I love you like
I hope you'll come back to me.

Retro Perspecto

My mom keeps this Rubbermaid of old fabric that she might want to use for sewing. I was looking through it this Christmas break and came across this gem. All I am saying is that my mom used to wear these! I only wish you could try them on yourselves.

But, ya know, this got me thinking...who can pull these off? Could I pull these off? Maybe without the running tights underneath :), but really. I am not going to lie, I was tempted to wear them to school. Maybe I could even bring a typewriter or some quills with ink or parchment or ya whatever else is out there. Maybe tomorrow, ya know?

The Rise of the Pocket Watch

Let's rewind a three months ago. Routine checking of my email. Subject line: Christmas wish lists. Click. Scrolling down...Sophie - baking supplies, games, a pocket watch...wait, a pocket watch? With a nutrition quiz due at five that evening I moved on forgetting about the strange or not so strange things my little sister might be asking for for Christmas.

Three days ago. Christmas morning. Michael Bublé on in the background. We were all sitting around in our pajamas. Sophie pulls the ribbon off a little box to reveal her treasured pocket watch. Check this out:

Now she wears this everyday. It is like she straight out of a movie, only I have never seen anything like my little sister in a movie. Trend setter or individualist? I am curious to find out.

My Family

What I love about each of my family members:

My mom is so talented and she gives of all her love and talent so freely to us and to everyone she knows.

My dad is very intelligent and works hard at every thing he does, but what I admire even more is that he loves very deeply.

My brother Chris (CJ) cares about people a lot too. He is a deep thinker and I admire how much he is able to learn by observation.

My brother Zander is very intelligent, but he also never lets anyone feel left out.

My sister Sophie is a great example of service to me.